Horizon at World's End

(As of 1/13/2017)

OPENSTORYLINES

Silverbark Box (ALL) – Ice and Raynar find a chest that was deliver to Erim, the High Priest of Lathander in Loudwater. The chest is rigged with traps and reveals a seamless silverbark cube. When the cube is jostled, it emits kinetic force magic. Raneth had blasted it with an Eldritch Blast and the kinetic force destorys the northern wall of Lathander's Temple and the section of the inner guard wall next to it.

Pinpeh Nation (ALL) - Ice unravels an old Pinpeh legend as he finds the ghost of Princess Ahote of the Pinpeh nation being hunted by the ghost of Urkas Dwolynd and his bandit gang. As everyone moves aside to let the nightly hunt for Ahote presume, Mrs. Vonvir traps Ahote in a soul gem. Dwolynd, not seeing or realizing this, assumes that Raneth helped her escape with magic but Ice strikes a deal with Dwolynd to devert him. Ice promises Dwolynd he will find the artifact and return it so that Dwolynd and his gang can finally rest, promising a map to his treasure hoard as a reward. The old Pinpeh village is now a ranch east of Sunstone. Pinpeh Ranch though is reported to be abandoned.

Koschei, the Undying (Raneth & Red) – Volunteering her own soul in lieu of her mother's, Raneth wanders to not only find coin to keep their nurse around but answers to the mystery of her withering mother's life's work and obsession. Raneth encounters Miss Willowby in Loudwater, a Cormyrian scholar who tells her that Koschei now has her soul and answers to her salvation is in an old temple converted into an outpost within the Anauroch desert. Raneth finally accepts her pact outside Dead Man's Ravine, during a moonless night after Sunstone was razed.

Slaad Imposter (Red) - Red has found a slaad tadpole in a well. He suspects there is a corpse at the bottom of the well and the adult slaad has shaped changed into Constale Tzegyr. With the village razed to the ground, there's only one other place to investigate: Pinpeh Ranch.

a visit from Deathless in the Dark

Koschei visits Raneth in her dream to seal their pact, the night after the village is basically razed by fire. Raneth has only a very vague recollection of their meeting, and writes a poem about it.

(I feel a bit weird posting a poem, especially since this style doesn't make sense in the fantasy setting, or for Raneth's personality, but I wanted to capture the creepy feeling and her ambiguous memories, and I'm used to writing free verse, so here we go)

__________________

A Visit in the Dark

I sleep at night, with the sounds of breath,

soft,

all around me,

and yet, I am alone.

Then, our shelter is torn away, and there is no one around, and

nothing

between myself and the night.

It dazzles me, how huge and bright with stars the space is,
and I wrap my arms around my bare shoulders.

Red's Super-Secret Diary

Dear Diary,

There's no two ways about it, I am not a wilderness person. I absolutely hate this backwater place. I'm not made for roads, forests and ghosts. Not just any ghosts, oh no. Bandit ghosts, who by the way are about as rapey as one would guess. Which is "very." Very, very rapey. I don't know how one would translate the act of shuddering on paper, but here goes.

A good portion of the page is just a hectic scribble.

It's bad enough that now there's two weirdos accompanying us."Oh hey, open a chest for us, will you?" Burned hands, a quaffed potion, and some coaxing later, my companion blows up a wall, and part of the temple we stayed at. Not subtle. Not at all. I was hoping to take on a job or two, maybe investigate the missing servant but that's probably out the window.

It's at this point I should probably stop and actually recount the events. Seems like I just started in the middle. Which I did, sorta. So here it goes.

Raneth and I get up. I get up earlier, not by much. But by enough to move so as my companion not discover that I'm prone to cuddling anything or anyone nearby when I sleep. This is really why I prefer to travel alone. When I collect myself, it becomes apparent that the two adventurers we met on the previous day are gone. Along with the little item I slipped in their pocket. That might take some attention off of us, and I'm sure that they can handle themselves. It's a shame, it really would have been useful to have them along. Heck, if they came with then Raneth and I wouldn't have even gave the elf and the dwarf the time of day.

When we see the scholar that Raneth wanted to speak to, I felt sort of at home. The reason for this bit of nostalgia was that the lady of the house, can't remember her name, is in possession of a missing servant (see what I did there?) Upon discovering a bloody knife in her kitchen while volunteering to get tea-I felt a mystery afoot. Unfortunately, the potential client, and quite possible-suspect was uncooperative, Raneth and that scholar were no help either. Not for lack of trying from my companion's end. I'd let her speak for me more often, but I think that would set a bad precedent.

But in exchange for a mystery that will remain unsolved, I learned that my companion is more than she let on. She's a witch. Not like those stuffy mages, but an honest-to-Lathander witch, sold her soul to some undead monster-thing. But get this, it wasn't even intentional. I prodded the scholar about how one would make such a pact, I made a show of looking too enthusiastic about such a thing. But it seems as though I now have more information on my former client and that is good. It doesn't paint a picture, but for the purpose of the analogy it gives me some colors and a brush, maybe. Souls were bartered, power was gained in exchange, and "he" is a Warlock.

I'll follow my Witch friend. She could be useful, and I always did want to see the Anauroch desert-which is where she will likely go. Point of fact, I should probably make sure she does, as there is someone of great power there, according to the Willowby. If I could enlist aid, or at least get more information from them then maybe there's something I could do.

It's at this point that the day was in swing, and it was time to set out. But that's when we were rudely interrupted by "those two." An Elf and a Dwarf, which I'm sure there's a making of a joke somewhere in there. They, out of nowhere ask me if I could pick the lock of a chest. Now, why would they just assume that I, an unassuming hin would be the nefarious type? What is it about me that makes people think I'm up to no good?

Anyway, there's a chest in the alleyway between the dock wall and the temple of Lathander. I really didn't want to open it for them. I mean, what's in it for me? What, they were going to share the contents? What if it was just one thing? Did they plan on splitting THAT in fourths? Anyway, who knows with those two.

Dumb curiosity got the best of me, so I get to work on the lock, and I manage to pick it. Then a small explosion goes off, and my hands are burnt. Pretty badly. Okay, really badly. It's a good thing there was a potion handy, and that Raneth was accommodating enough to aid me in drinking it. Took care of the burns and the injury itself, and though I was good as new, my hands still had burning pins and needles for a bit. Then the dwarf tried to open it. As luck would have it, the chest exploded on him as well, and even knocked him into the wall. Tymora be praised. Although I think if anyone, the Elf would have had it coming.

So then I convince Raneth to use some of her witch powers to get it open, by blasting it. This time, we all had the sense to get well out of the way. This, I think was one of my smarter decisions. The wall, and a whole section of the temple just explode as soon as the chest gets hit. My ears rang something fierce.

Deciding that there was really nothing better to do in that part of town anymore, we went off to grab the apothecary's wife, managed to convince the man himself to come along, but he fell behind and was never seen again. I could only assume he went back to the shop.

I told our new "friends" to go fetch the ponies while we went to the potion shop. I'm pretty sure they screwed up. When we met outside of town, there were no ponies. Then I'm told that someone came by and picked them up, and also mentioned me when they did. Someone's onto me. If it's these Zhentarim, then it's a simple matter. Not necessarily "easy," but there's a simplicity in dealing with these types. Chances are good though, that I've made fast friends with them-and they'll be bringing presents. I'll have to make sure they don't throw any surprise parties. This will be hard. If it's my ex-client, then it means one of two things. Either I take care of this goon real quick, and it will be a while before I encounter another. Or I'm dealing with some unknown unknowns. This would be my least favorite option.

We leave Loudwater, and I don't plan on coming back. Which leads me to the worst, or best part of the story depending on who's reading. Which is me. So I'd say it's a little bit of both. I'll start with the best parts.

Best part: I got to see ghosts.

Worst part: Everything else, including the ghosts. They were ghost bandits, like the ones Ms. Willoughby talked about. They were also, as previously mentioned, very very rapey. The hillbilly accents only made it worse. I'd think it was hilarious if it weren't directed at me. One of them even played a banjo while their leader made pig-squealing noises at me. While everyone else was trying to negotiate with those bastards, I snuck away and that's oddly enough not where things get better.

One of our number decided to be a hero. The apothecary's wife decided she was going to be too brave for her own good. They ran her through. I suppose the only thing that spared us the same fate was "Ice" as he calls himself when he promised to bring back the treasure the ghost bandits were after. Dumb decision, but whatever it's his problem. I was way out of sight and halfway gone, and thankfully Raneth managed to get out of harm's way.

I desperately wanted to get her back to a priest and have her revived, the stuff about bringing her back as a zombie were. . .I joke around when I'm frightened. But no, they cut off her head and set her corpse to the torch. It was at this point, I felt peckish and figured I'd roast a ration over the resulting pyre. You know, lighten the mood. Didn't work.

The silver lining, if you could call it that, is I get some of the fancy dresses that this woman brought along with her. So I could give them as a gift to someone. Should I ever-Oh who am I kidding. I'm going to rock that white dress she has, and the silk gloves are such a nice texture. I even know what I'm going to do with my hair.

Jury's still out on that Elf and his friend though. But right now, I have half a mind to put a bolt in their heads for turning this jaunt through the woods into a farce. Maybe we can ditch them as soon as we have a chance. It's not like Raneth and I owe those ghosts anything, and it's just taking us away from where we were going. It's his damn fault for getting that halfling woman all excited, showing off like some sort of pompous fop. Elves. Now she's dead, and I was REALLY looking forward to seeing her expression when seeing a Tiefling for the first time. I wanted to take that girl on a little adventure, give her something to see and remember fondly. Now she's dead. She's dead and I don't even remember her name.

I think I'll sell the dresses. But I might ask a tailor to design something similar, as I really think I'd look good in the one I stuffed in my pack. Gorwynn, that's her name. I remember it now. It was killing me trying to remember.

Think I'll pray to Tymora tonight, just like I used to back in Athkatla. Today was not a win, that's for sure.

In strange company

Maybe I'm a fool. But I've attached myself to some people in my travels. I am not the strangest one in the room anymore. Not by a long shot. It's comforting, in a way. I was the "exotic Half-Elf" in my home town, everyone gawking at me and whispering as I walked past. It was easier just to avoid other people. Now, I've been forced out of my shell. And maybe that's not such a bad thing.

I feel I owe the Elf an apology. I'm not so good at things like that, though. Still, I think I've been wrong in my assumptions. I can see that all Elves are not quite like what I'd imagined. It even makes me wonder what my father might be like, and whether or not the picture I'd painted of him, in my mind, was true.

But the Elf, Ice, he's actually somewhat decent. He was kind to the ghost; kind to that frivolous Halfling lady, and he travels in good company. His friend, Raynar, was very chivalrous, making sure to cover me with his shield, though I did have to crouch a bit because of his height…

Now "Red", as he calls himself, I may have been way off about him, too. He may be even more insane than I originally thought. He's cunning and chaotic… and a fan of women's finery, apparently? What was I thinking? When a man, who's only about as tall as half of my leg, sporting a skull (of all things) on his face, offers me a ration, did I believe that it would be a good idea to take it, and to follow him into town? Was I really that desperate for company? And now, he seems to think it's a good idea to boss me around. The nerve! I have to keep reminding myself that I can make my own decisions and am not his sidekick. And yet… he does make me laugh, and I haven't had a really good laugh, not in a long time. Do I deserve to laugh, though? That, I don't know. But, if I'm going to be punished for my deeds, it will come soon enough, and I won't spend the time I have left ruminating over it.

I really don't like the weather up north. It's cold, and downright obnoxiously so when humid. I might be mistaken, but I'm finding the people are all pretty much the same as well, is it me or do the surfs all have the same personality? Who knows. It's been a few years out on the road, and I lost my old journal. Almost every word in it was lies though, which I'm hoping worked, and I won't know unless it doesn't. It's an amateur attempt at misdirection, and I mean literally, as I basically said I'd be traveling southwest after finding the cold insufferable. Although, now that I think on it, I wonder why I didn't just say I was moving north, and actually headed towards the western heartlands. Caravans. If I had but a few more silver, I'd be somewhere warm. Hells, I probably had the time to gather the coin and do as I please. But no, I had to get out right then and there, in a panic. In any case, if what I did worked, whoever is looking for me is headed in the wrong direction, and thinks me stupid enough to drop a journal, and too frail to weather the cold. If not, then all this running about is delaying the inevitable, in which case, I really regret not taking a southwest bound caravan.

I don't want to die in this miserable climate. I don't feel like dying at all, really. But if I really had to choose, I'd meet my end in some Calishite brothel, munching on some date fruit, sun on my skin, with muscles aching after some strenuous "exercise." But much like we don't choose the circumstances we enter this world, we don't really get to choose how we leave it, either. I did however make my choice that day, and in a way I really don't regret it. Now I'm on the run, which is all well and good. Never really fit in back home, or anywhere for that matter. The things everyone seems to do with no problem just chafes me something unimaginable. Being on the run is simple. Keeps you occupied, and makes certain concerns immediate, and not to mention that I'm technically doing better now than I did when I made those attempts at honest living.

I don't answer to anyone besides my base needs, wants and whims. I meet people, then I move on and forget them, as I'm sure they forget me. No reputations to really worry about. That being said it does get a bit lonely at times. Speaking of which, I may have made a friend. Some half-elf woman I met on a river-boat. A strange one, doesn't look armed or dangerous. So one wonders why a lady like her would be roughing it out on the road. Maybe she's running from something too. Or maybe. . .

. . .Anyway, it could be nothing but I suspect there's more to this little bird than meets the eye. Has proven pretty useful. I really almost feel a bit bad about making her do that thing, but then I remember that no one was hurt. No one that mattered anyway. She helped me put one of the locals to bed, even helped me burn the garbage he was buried in. So it does lead me to wonder what this girl has seen in her life to simply shrug and be complicit in what was just a straight-up piss kicking.

The guy had it coming though. Looming over me with his greased back hair, and his black cloak. "Oh look at me, I can take your stuff because I'm a Zhentarim. Oh no! There's a blade in my back, and I'm dead." Gods everything was so bright, colorful and vivid after that. I do really hope this doesn't make me one of those, you know, murderers. He was going to take Evelyn and I had only just met her. So I ran her right through him.

Oh, and we're to take a fellow Hin to some village to the south to see a Tiefling. I can't wait to see the look on her face, what with her carrying on about demons, and magic and all. Speaking of which, my new companion seemed an awful lot curious about such things as well. Maybe what answers she finds will help me and my situation. But only time will tell, I think. Until then there's at least some work that might get me some coin. I think I might actually pray to Lathander tonight, if just on the off-chance it works and good luck will follow-although I think it's a different god that deals in that. Anyway, getting a bit sleepy but I'll grab some of that stale bread-it tastes surprisingly not terrible.

A confession to no one

What a day I've had…

Look. I know that no one who really, truly knows me, will call me completely sane. But then again, no one really, truly knows me. Who exactly could I tell about the unspeakable things that happened to me and my mother?

And yet, I've had to seek help.

When I speak of my own sanity, I don't mean that I am seeing things. No, I am damn well sure that, at least to some degree, they are true. The after-effects are there, anyway. This is why I can't trust myself in my own home, with my own mother. I can't even say it's her fault, really. That damn Elf drove her to this. After all is said and done, I'm going to find that bastard, and… and…

I can't even say what will happen when I find my father. As if he deserves that title. But it won't be good. For him.

Before I really do lose my mind, let me move on.

What should I make of it? Waking up in places, not realizing how I'd gotten there, blood and dirt caked on my skin… not mine.

But I wasn't dreaming when that man tried to rob me, and this green light just… shot out of my fingers. I ran off as he fell to the floor, clutching himself, so I don't know what ended up happening to him. And I don't care. I don't want to know.

More than that, I saw that thing. Not just saw. It 'talked' to me. Koschei, it called itself.

My sad, stupid mother. For all that she is book learned, she really is a fool. Experimenting with things beyond her power, trying, all her life, to make herself immortal, so she can find that Elf, and make him love her again. So, she calls up some kind of demon, some kind of fleshless horror.

I just can't. If I try to picture it… I'll be sick.

And I fear that this Koschei has entered my mind. I never saw it again, after that night, but I vaguely remember telling it not to hurt my mother, and he (at least, I think it was a he) saying that I would do, in her place. I haven't seen him since then. But she has grown as weak and frail as an old woman on her deathbed. If I didn't have Adelina there to care for her while I'm gone, I don't know what I'd do.

I was never any saint. Just a regular girl. We didn't want for much, since the bastard left us his guilt money, but I never let it make me proud. Which is all for the better, now that it's all gone. I wasn't like my mother, didn't have a head for books and philosophy, but I tried to be responsible, kind to others, cheer my mother, all simple things. I never hurt anyone. Well, at least, not intentionally. Not callously.

But lately, I find myself caring less about my effect on others. I think I'm just worn down. All this travel has made me numb. A woman, traveling alone; I've had to be overcautious. It's exhausting. I must be rebelling against it.

That must be why I let the little halfling talk me into it.

I'm tired of getting picked on. Absolutely. Damn. Tired.

All I want is some coin to send my mother, and an answer to our sickness. An end to it.

And this is why I can't really have friends, now. Because, if they knew the thrill I felt when we tricked that slick-talking, lecherous, greedy little shit out into the alley, when I distracted him, while the halfling of many names proceeded to pierce his skull like a ripe melon, they would be absolutely disgusted. And I'd be hard-pressed to disagree with them. Or care all that much.

This is not how I envisioned my first trip out into the world would be. It started out well enough when I met my companions Stan and Kaylee, those two I would stand by no matter what.

Karsh is a bit unusual in his ways, and I definitely don't care for his choices and brashness,but I will work with him to get the parties goals done. The Dragon Born would seem to be the

catalyst to the problems that we now find ourselves in, but make no mistake, we were targets the second we set foot in Balders Gate.

I was blessed when my God came to me in a time of need, I felt his calling and became a warrior for him instead of just a healer as I had been. Now I think there may of been some purpose in that, that he gave me that gift because he knew of my masters treachery and perhaps someday I can replace my master in his service. My God did not give that to me so I can sit in a jail cell and waste years. I have been praying every night for guidance to help me see the truth, I can not believe that what my master did was for the greater good and in the name of Rillifane Rallathil. What he is doing is part of what is terribly wrong with Balders Gate.

I need to know if I am right, if he has broken his Sacred Oath. If he has I will take the Sacred Oath Of Vengence myself, against all evil and him in particular. For now I must do the best I can to help us get out of the city safely, perhaps the priest I have come to know in the temple could help.

What just happened....?

Since this all started I've had a nagging feeling that things weren't right. There were things we've encountered that just didn't sit right…other things that were implied…and other things that were said to us. This "thing" that's going on with the three factions…no, make it four factions if you include the Emerald Enclave and the Mages Guild has changed this city. Not in a good way.

I should have gotten the group out of the city once that dear old lady's inn was scraped clean of any evidence. Then I should have gotten us out after we were bailed out of jail. Then I should have drop tailed it out when I got the ump-teenth warning that "bigger things were going on"…what a bunch of BS. We were made scapegoats. End of story…

The "Hand"…Turned on me…Finn's adoptive "father" leads something powerful enough to make an example of Kaylee to me!? If I didn't know better I'd say someone or something really wants us out of Baldur's Gate. I'm wracking my brain thinking of two things…First, how to get us out of here. Second…how long it will take me to get revenge on Finn's "father" and whatever Guildmaster runs the Baldur's Gate Thieves Guild. It might take years…hell it might take decades…

But I swear by Brandobaris that I'll take out every lieutenant all the way up to the Guildmaster. This guild will be remade the "right" way.

You know, before this I wasn't the biggest fan of the "violent" thief. Anyone can be a thug…but it takes finesse, brains, and skill to truly become successful at your chosen trade. I vow to work on my footwork, precision with my blades, and to learn how to use two blades at once against any and all comers. I will not be a victim like so many of those that my "brethren" have preyed upon.

If the Guild doesn't want me…fine. I'll do everything possible to become the "one" the guild regrets hanging out to dry. There's a big old world out there…it's time to start taking my share of its treasures…

Karsh's Journal

Saga of Savagery
Chapter I

To the hells with this city and its people! They call me some savage, and say that I'm to be caged for thirty years for my supposed crimes. Yet these city people hide on rooftops and fire at us with bows, ambushing us. They burn down the home of that woman with her in it, no less, for trying to convince the stuffy shits in this "upper city" that what we did wasn't "murder."

I didn't see her fall, but when I managed to get myself up to the roof, I couldn't see Kaylee. I counted her dead. Stan and his pointy-eared friend were being menaced by the men that shot at us. Three of them, three of us-except Finn looked quite worse for wear. This was no fist-fight in a ring with healers at the ready. This wasn't my hunting grounds, and it certainly wasn't my fight. There wasn't a thing I could do. Well, there might have been but I didn't and these are shifted sands after the storm anyway. So I sat there, getting soaked in the rain and watched their exchange. Filthy cowards, and I didn't have the stomach to face them. What does that make Karsh, I wonder?

A pox on Baldur's Gate. There won't be a trial, and I won't be caged just because some pompous, limp-wristed city folk want to be entertained. Stan says we're leaving, and it's about bloody time. I just hope that he knows a way out, because I'm thinking there's a lucky guard around here who will die for our freedom, whether he volunteers or not.

Not all bad news, we found Kaylee. Her body, at least. Paid a priest just about every shiny we had left to bring her back. She isn't quite the same but the priest says this is normal. Perhaps it is like those stories, where if you bury the dead among pets, they come back…but wrong somehow. I will have to keep an eye out.

Oh, and my family and the entire tribe has been wiped off the face of this world. Overall, I'd say today's a win. But seriously, I'm going to find the one who did this, and make him watch while I burn his family alive before leaving him to wander without the means to start a new one.

It also seems as though we won't be saving the crazy girl languishing in the cells. That's a word Finn taught me, and it sounds right for some reason. At least he's good for something, oh that and good at being betrayed by his father. I shouldn't find it funny, but I really can't help it. The look on his churchy face was priceless.

I really do hope we can get out of this wretched (that's another fun word) pit of vipers alive.

What dreams may come...

I can't remember anything. I woke up in a temple. They told me what happened, but it's all a blur. I don't believe them. They told me we were ambushed; threatened.

They told me that I… I'd…

No.

I don't believe them.

It's impossible.

And yet,

I can feel the scar on my back. It's too deep.

And I can see… I can see you there…

I can't deny it any longer.

Stan. Finn. Karsh. They saved me. I owe them my life, in every sense of the word.

When I sleep, I wake up, screaming, from dreams I can't recall. My days are spent in a fog. They say when you, when you've been to the other side, that you can see those who've passed. I can't believe it… no, I won't… not you… you can't be… you just can't!

If I'd known, I never would have left, never!

I'm so sorry. If I'd just stayed home, you wouldn't have- maybe I could have done something. And what about Mother? And my brothers? What are they to do now? Father, if there were any time I needed your help, it would be now. I don't think I've ever been so scared in my life. And now they're telling us to take the prison term! Is there any other way out of this? These damn lawyers, they do nothing. Either that, or they've been paid off. God's damn them! I need to find Lady Storm. Maybe she can help, maybe, maybe the Harpers… I don't know where else to turn, or who to trust. We are all in terrible danger.